


Everything Is New To Me

by its_my_FIC_in_a_box



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Ashton Irwin & Harry Styles Friendship, Bisexual Harry, Coming Out, Confused Louis, Five Colleges, Fluff and Angst, Football Player Louis, Football Player Niall, Larry Stylinson Is Real, Louis thinks he's straight, M/M, Niall Horan & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, Niall Horan Ships Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Niall Ships It, Niall talks some sense into Louis, One Shot, University Student Harry, american uni AU, brief Lou Teasdale appearance, dark room blowjob, exchange student harry, harry studies philosophy and sculpture, one direction - Freeform, vegetarian Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 15:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4185624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_my_FIC_in_a_box/pseuds/its_my_FIC_in_a_box
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I…” Louis stammered. “I mean, I’m not...gay.”</p><p>The word felt like it stuck to the top of his mouth, but with its utterance came a wave of relief. Louis felt like he could breath again after a week-plus of pent up anxiety surrounding the three letters. </p><p>Niall shrugged again.</p><p>“So...you’re Harry-sexual.” </p><p>Louis is the football captain at an American university, Harry is an English exchange student studying philosophy and sculpture at a nearby liberal arts college. Louis thinks he's straight until he meets Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything Is New To Me

**Author's Note:**

> Louis and Harry meet, begin to hang out and finally kiss. Confusion and hurt ensues.

“Well, that was shit.”

  
Louis maneuvered his cleated foot through the left leg of his sweatpants, hopping on one foot to keep his balance. He let out an annoyed groan as the spikes caught on the fabric when attempting to do the same on the opposite side.

  
“What?” He hadn’t been listening. He hadn’t been listening to much of anything that day really.

  
“That practice. It was shit.” Niall clarified. He zipped his jacket and bounced a little on the balls of his feet, shuddering against the cold.

  
“Yeah, well, finals are coming. The guys probably have other things other their mind.”

  
Louis knew _he_ did.

  
Niall studied him with a curious expression. Louis realized that his response may not have come out as cordially as he’d intended, and hoped that he hadn’t full out snapped at Niall. His tone of voice had always had a way of betraying his outward composure.

  
A hand clapped Niall’s shoulder, pushing him forward and interrupting his furrowed brow. The sight of Ashton and his dimples--the fucking dimples-- made Louis revert his eyes to the ground. _He must know...right?_

  
“Luke and I were thinking of getting a Local burger? You want to come with?”

  
He was talking to Niall obviously. Louis busied himself re-tying his laces, to avoid pressuring Ashton to extend the invitation to include him as well. Louis imagined sitting across from a grinning Harry holding a quarter pounder with ketchup coating his perfect dimples. He quickly revised the image to be a slimmer patty speckled with green-- of course he had to be a fucking _vegetarian_. _Jesus._ Imagining scenarios like this had consumed his whole day. That, and a swinging pendulum between an unshakable sense of guilt and enough frustration to bust a hole in the wall of his and Zayn’s flat.

  
By now, Niall was unconsciously rubbing slow circles over his stomach. He raised a fist to the sky and shouted “Give me maple mayo, or give me death!” before breaking out into fits of laughter at his own joke.

  
This was Louis’ cue to leave, he thought to himself. He checked the time on his phone once more for the sake of protocol.

  
“I think I’m gonna head out,” He interjected, breaking the two other boys from their burger reverie and causing them to look in one direction: at him. The quick flit of Ashton’s eyes down Louis’s body and the ever-so-slightly upturned right side of his mouth, hit Louis in the gut. Ashton knew what had happened and he was silently judging him for it. Louis wanted to retort: _I get it, I’m a shithead,_ but instead he slung his duffel over his shoulder and headed toward the parking lot.

  
It’d been a week since Louis had spoken to Harry. The one time Louis had dared to face their shared Philosophy class, Harry had taken a seat in the back of the lecture hall, and remained uncharacteristically silent the whole time, not raising his hand even once to ramble sedately about God knows what. He craved the younger boy’s drunken Lana del Rey renditions, saw-dust sprinkled curls, and beaming green eyes. That same ache was precisely why Louis was freaking the fuck out.

  
“Wait up!” Niall called jogging after him.

  
Louis kept his eyes fastened on the moving grass beneath his feet.

  
“I thought you were getting Local.” Louis didn’t try to hide his lack of enthusiasm at his friend’s choice to join him instead.

  
“I am. I’m gonna meet them there.”

  
“Oh.”

  
Niall was an extremely loyal friend, but Louis recognized that it was a bit preemptive of him to assume Niall would ever choose him when food was an option. _Food--I should get on that_. He thought to himself, having skipped lunch and not realizing it until now.

  
“What’s going on?” Niall asked innocently, struggling to keep up with Louis while dragging the sack of soccer balls across the uneven field.

  
“How do you mean?” Louis consciously raised his intonation at the end of his sentence but his feigned confusion was unconvincing.

  
“You’re acting all fidgety, and irritable and distracted.” Niall acted out his interpretation of ‘fidgety, irritable and distracted’ accidentally releasing his grip on the ball bag and tripping to catch it. “And what was that with Ashton? You were so cool to him.”

  
“ _It was mutual_.” Louis muttered under his breath, but loud enough that Niall heard. Louis scolded himself mentally, realizing it was unfair to take his anger out on Ashton who was only being a good friend to Harry. In a somewhat theatrical move (mostly because of inconvenience of the ball sack), Niall leapt in front of Louis, obscuring his path.

  
“I’m not dumb. I _know_ you, Tommo -- and I know when something’s up.” Niall took a deep inhalation catching his breath. Louis gazed past Niall to the parking lot where he could see his blue car awaiting him.

  
“What’s up with you and Ashton? Does it have to do with Harry?” At the mention of Harry’s name, Louis eyes shot back to Niall.

  
“Tell me what’s going on.” he prodded.

  
Louis caught his words on his tongue, hesitating. He looked back to his car and then at at the partially frozen ground. Could telling Niall be so bad? He was his best mate after all. Would it changed the way he thought of him? Louis dithered, seriously debating just walking past him to the parking lot, before deciding that he owed Niall more than that. Louis let out a sigh.

  
“I kissed him.”

  
Niall’s face remained unchanged.

  
“You kissed Harry.”

  
Louis wanted to say: “No, _Ashton_ ” but he couldn’t bring himself to crack the joke. He glanced at the ground again and nodded, before peering up through his lashes to see Niall’s reaction.

  
“Yeah.”

  
Louis watched in horror as a grin stretched across Niall’s face. Niall punched Louis’s shoulder softly.

  
“Right on.”

  
Louis’s mouth parted and stayed that way.

  
He hadn’t really imagined how Niall would respond, but this nonchalance was certainly not what he would’ve bet on. He struggled to form words.

  
Noticing his impotence, Niall reacted shrugging excitedly. “I mean about fucking time.” He cleared his throat and corrected himself quickly: “What I _mean_ to say, is how do you...feel about it?”

  
Louis found himself staring at Niall dumbfoundedly in awe of his best friend’s casualness.

  
“I…” Louis stammered. “I mean, I’m not... _gay_.”

  
The word felt like it stuck to the top of his mouth, but with its utterance came a wave of relief. Louis felt like he could breath again after a week-plus of pent up anxiety surrounding the three letters.

  
Niall shrugged again.

  
“So...you’re Harry-sexual.” He began shaking his head. “I think sexuality is much more fluid than people try to make it, anyway.”

  
Louis pushed his fringe out of his eyes, still trying to take in whatever was going on. Who was this guy standing opposite him proclaiming the fluidity of sexuality?

  
“I mean you are into him right? This wasn’t some one-off…”

  
_Romantically...sexually...just on a human level, really_. Louis had agonized over each classification for the last week, trying to talk himself out of every one. What was so wrong with being into Harry? He was the ideal human in every possible way: he was clever, considerate, amusing, non judgemental, beautiful and comfortable in every possible scenario, including in his own skin. The fact that he was a guy seemed like an incredibly petty obstacle in the face of all that he was.

  
“I guess…” Why was it so hard for him to say it aloud?

  
A smirk played across Niall’s face. “And it was good?”

  
Louis looked up from the patch of grass he was destroying slowly with his cleat.

  
Niall nodded in understanding. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it had sucked, would we?”

  
Louis found a smile forming on his lips. Despite his mortification, Louis could still appreciate a small fraction of the humor of the situation. He let out a chuckle and looked back down. His stomach surged at the memory of Harry’s soft lips trailing down his neck. He shivered, shaking the smile.

  
“I panicked, and made a run for it.” Louis grimaced, remembering the unholy look of hurt in green eyes. “Not my finest,”

  
Niall frowned, pensive. “Hmm….yeah, but he’ll forgive you.”

  
_Forgive me._ So, what -- this was assuming he’d try to...pursue this thing? He resumed his steady assault on the grass, shifting the strap of his bag on his shoulder.

  
“I don’t know. Who’s to say he’d want anything, you know, with me anyway?”

  
Louis couldn’t believe he was saying these things aloud, let alone that Niall was there to witness it. Niall took a firm hold on his shoulder.

  
“The dude looks at you like--like you’re the second coming of Jesus or something. I think he’ll understand.”

  
Louis blinked as he studied Niall’s genuine expression. He shook his head, Harry had a way of making everyone feel like they were the most interesting person in the room. He had no reason to believe he was an exception.

  
“Don’t you try and deny it.” Niall released his grip on Louis giving him a little shove as he did so. “Think about it. Has he missed a single one of our games since you started hanging out? Dude, he brought over Vietnamese when you were sick. And I’m pretty sure he pretends to like that terrible show you watch just because you like it.”

  
“Gogglebox is _great_. It’s an english thing--you wouldn’t get it. And that doesn’t count.”

  
The effect of Niall’s comments weren’t lost on Louis though. Harry was incredibly thoughtful, and he had been the one to kiss him after all. Had Louis blocked that out entirely?

  
“Whatever, my point is his face lights up when you walk in the room. And you -- you’re not much better. He got you to watch Titanic, and you fucking bawled!”

  
“I did not bawl. There were tears in my eyes, there’s a difference.” He remembered it clearly. Harry had brought him a box of tissues and proceeded to mock him joyously through his own drying tears. When their laughter died down, Harry rolled a joint and Niall (who had come by to collect his laundry from their dryer) smoked it with them on the porch. Outside, Harry’s silhouette glowed under the porch light as he cursed the weather between drags, and did a shivering dance in the cold. Within the half hour the two of them were back on the couch, staring at the ceiling with a youtube link on repeat of the extended instrumental version of ‘My Heart Will Go On’. Harry’s hand somehow ended up resting on Louis’ knee, and it never occurred to Louis to remove it.

  
Louis didn’t get why he was bothering to contest every point Niall was trying to make. If Harry was into him enough to kiss him that meant something. What scared Louis though, was the possibility of Harry’s interest not matching Louis’ in him. But reliving these moments with Harry was melting his resistance. More than anything he just wanted to share the same space as him again.

  
“Have it your way. I just think, for how much you two enjoy each other, it would be a waste to give it up just because he’s not what you usually go for.”

  
Niall had a way of making everything sound so simple. He tried to imagine what it would be like being with Harry. Touching him whenever he wanted...watching shitty television and listening to loads of the Clash...waking up to the smell of peppermint and leather... _sex_. Louis’ mind had been skirting around the logistics of the subject, but having the power and liberty to turn on and satisfy Harry…? _Fuck_. Louis had never been one to cook, but he thought he would cook dinner for Harry, and something really fucking elaborate just to be obnoxious about it.

  
He rubbed his palms over his eyes. What was he doing here? Choosing to wallow in self-pity without even attempting to see if this could lead to something?

  
“I’ve got to go.” He said abruptly.

  
Niall looked at him sideways, trying to assess what this sudden shift meant in terms of Tomlinson mood swings. Louis sidestepped him and continued towards the parking lot.

  
“Okay…?”

  
Niall followed behind unable to maintain his pace; Louis made no effort to adjust it.

  
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” Niall called after him.

  
Louis rifled through his jacket pocket for his keys. “Sure,”

  
He reached his car, and threw the back door open and tossed his bag inside. He took off his cleats, slipping into his vans. Niall watched from several yards away and chuckled to himself. Louis started the engine hurriedly and put the car in reverse.

 

~~~

 

The drive couldn’t have been more than ten minutes but it felt like an eternity.

  
Louis was undergoing a severe adrenaline rush. If Niall thought he was fidgety before he should’ve seen him now. He felt like he’d just taken several shots of something… whether the results were more akin to espresso or liquor he couldn’t decide. His thoughts weren’t entirely coherent. He was envisioning a topographical map of the area between UMASS and Hampshire and hypothesizing which fields and back yards would make for the most direct path possible --that-- spliced with images of Harry. A foggy one from the night he won his first game of the season and in his joyous stupor he ended up playing beer pong opposite this angel-faced brunette, whose furrowed brow and pursed lips made the room stand still as he prepared to toss the ball; his elbows on the desk of the library complimenting his way out of overdue fees and making grown women blush in the process; fingers covered in charcoal tracing, studying every detail of Louis’ face. Louis had felt transparent under his gaze, unable to resist shifting anxiously, unruffled Harry’d commented ‘fuck, I want to sculpt your cheekbones’ which elicited further rosiness but surprisingly put him at ease.

  
Louis pulled into the lot across from the Enfield mods (Hampshire’s anti-word for dorms) and slung his seat belt quickly off him. He crossed the road swiftly, and headed straight for Harry’s mod. He could hear his heartbeat in his ear. The door was predictably unlocked, customary for such a tiny school but unheard of during his time in a UMASS dorm.

  
Louise was sitting on the couch of the small apartment's shared living room running her hands through the hair of a guy seated on the floor in front of her.

  
“I’m thinking of something with a braid and a bun.” _Only at Hampshire do you see guys and girls alike braiding each other's hair_ , Louis thought to himself.

“Fine by me.” The guy responded.

“Hey Lou,” Louis interrupted urgently and the two of them looked up at his figure hovering in the doorway. “Have you seen Harry?”

  
“Oh hey Louis.” Louise ran a hand through her lavender hair. “Yeah, not for awhile, I think he went to the studio.”

  
Louis was quite aware that he must’ve looked somewhat deranged, trackie clad and bursting through doors but he couldn’t be bothered to muster his composure. “‘Kay, but would you mind telling me where that is?”

  
“Sure…” She looked a little concerned, probably for what was in store for her Harry. “Yeah, it’s in the Art Barn, big, white, boxy building. Just head in the direction of the main road, then past Franklin Patterson take a right and it’s right next to Liebson.”

  
Louis didn’t have the patience to make her elaborate on these buildings whose names were meaningless to him, so he turned around hoping ‘big, white and boxy’ would be enough.

  
“Thanks.”

  
He shut the door, probably more forcefully than necessary and hopped down the steps. _Okay, towards main road…_

  
_This was fucking ridiculous and he knew it. Who was he running blindly around an unfamiliar campus in pursuit of some unsuspecting boy? He probably should have been more concerned about planning out his actual approach to this, but for the moment he was letting his adrenaline and the knot in stomach have the best of him. The desperate feeling that just seeing this boy would make right all in the world propelled his legs forward._

  
He passed a square brick building and decided that was Franklin whatever so took a right. _What was this, a fucking park?_ He found himself on a path within a section of woods. Louis had never been shy about his indifference towards nature and moments like this made him glad he didn’t attend a school on a woodland farm. He exhaled a breath of relief when he emerged and saw signs of modernization in a building with metal detail. He assumed this was the second building she’d mentioned so he must’ve been close. His eyes scanned the scenery ahead and landed on a white industrial building. His brisk walk morphed into a light jog as he closed the distance between himself and the Art Barn.

  
Louis arrived at the door and let his hands drop to his knees for a few breaths. Being fit enough to play an entire game at midfield he knew that his pulse was disproportionate to the amount of exercise he’d just done. But his heart rate only increased sensing his proximity to Harry and the magnitude of what he was about to do.

  
He drew the door open and began weaving through the maze of studios and divided rooms. Paint littered the floors and paper the tables. He felt like he was inside one of those ‘fun’ houses at carnivals filled with mirrors and passageways. He had not been amused by them then and was even less entertained by the idea now. He was about to pass a particular doorway when he caught a glimpse of a shearling coat draped over a canvas bag.

  
Louis took a few steps backward and entered the room.

  
Perched on a stool with his back to Louis, Harry sat bent over a high table, his harnessed boots clicking against the metal bar of his seat. Never had the sight of someone rendered Louis so eager. Louis’s chest swelled with affection for this boy whose idea of going to the gym was sitting on a bike for two hours and reading greek tragedies, who lived to sing along to the Beach Boys on 5 minute car rides, and to indulge in inauthentic mexican cuisine.

  
As far as Louis could tell Harry wasn’t actually drawing or writing just twiddling with a pencil. As he got closer he noticed a white headphone cord trailing down his neck that must have blocked out the noise from Louis’ entry. In a quick motion Louis pulled the cord from Harry’s ears and drew up a stool beside his, pressing his knees up against Harry’s leg.

  
Harry jerked his head sideways clearly alarmed. His green eyes were not altogether cold but nowhere near as welcoming as they had once been. Louis hoped to changed that. The lips he worshipped parted in awe and his brow furrowed in the least threatening and most endearing way possible.

  
“What the f--”

  
“Kiss me.” Louis interjected.

  
Louis wasn’t quite sure where that had come from, but it was too late to take it back so he thought he would go with it.

  
“Absolutely not.” Harry responded indignantly, but the flinch of a muscle in his neck betrayed him. “Sorry to disappoint, but you can’t just expect--”

  
Louis rolled his eyes.

  
“Kiss me, you _twat_.”

  
Harry scowled at him, speechless. Louis knew that this was probably not the best approach but he was reveling in every second of this new unnerved and choking on his words Harry. Louis swept his eyes down Harry’s face and let them linger on his lips before returning to meet his stare. Harry couldn’t help but mimic the action fleetingly. He swallowed.

  
Louis smirked at the incredulous boy seated before him and the effect he seemed to be having on him. Leaning forward and resting his palms on Harry’s legs (with no sign of resistance on his part) he placed a gentle kiss on Harry’s stunned lips. Louis felt his whole body ignite at the long overdue contact with Harry’s soft lips. It took an enormous amount of willpower to break that contact just to lean back enough to read his expression. He could see the increasing rise and fall of Harry’s collarbone out of the corner of his eye, and if he wasn’t mistaken, the sudden dilation of his eyes.

  
“I--” Harry stuttered. Louis’ breath hitched at the rasp in Harry’s voice. “I want to kiss you.”

  
At this point he was merely stating the obvious, but that didn’t prevent Louis from rejoicing silently in his head.

  
“And,” Harry continued with a cautionary hint in his tone “I’m going to want to kiss you tomorrow too.”

  
Louis’ eyes flickered between Harry’s, realizing the implication of his words. Louis found the simultaneous guard (albeit waning) and vulnerability that affirmed Harry’s self-respect incredibly sexy. And the fact that this boy way admitting to wanting something more, in whatever shape and size they would come to define, both alleviated and excited the pressure in Louis’ chest.

  
“And the next day...and the next day... and most likely the day after that.” Louis concurred.

  
Harry’s breathless expression almost made the universe crash. Whatever sliver of restraint Harry’d been clinging to he now abandoned, and with it, the space between his and Louis’s lips.

  
Despite his anticipation, Louis wasn’t fully prepared for what came next. Harry kissed him urgently but with precision. He tasted like mint and cocoa powder. He brought his large hands to either side of Louis’ face cupping his cheeks with a particularly delicate hold despite his assault on Louis’s lips. Louis scooted to the farthest edge of his stool, alternating his legs with Harry’s, needing to be closer. Harry sucked at Louis’ bottom lip eliciting a soft moan. Louis held onto the nape of Harry’s neck, and raked one hand up the back of Harry’s head through his hair. Harry shuddered, and responded by dragging his tongue along the inside of Louis’ lower lip. Louis was practically falling off his stool and into Harry’s lap when Harry, without disconnecting their lips moved to stand slowly. Louis followed and relocated his hands to Harry’s back, pulling him closer.

  
Harry took a few strides backward tugging Louis along with him by his hold on his cheeks. Harry’s boot caught on his computer charger, and he lost his balance taking a few clumsy correctional steps causing their mouths to separate. Louis exhaled quickly smirking. Harry’s eyes met his and beamed, biting his lip. Stepping forward Louis took hold of the front of Harry’s white t-shirt and pulled him closer. The two resumed their kiss, and Harry wove his hands through Louis hair, continuing to lead him backward. Louis nipped at Harry’s bottom lip, and Harry’s eyes fluttered open in appreciation. Harry placed a quick kiss on Louis’ lips before taking a quick glance over his shoulder to navigate through the next room. Louis formed his first coherent thought. Where is he taking me? Unconcerned, he took advantage of Harry’s moment of vulnerability to begin a trail of breath and lips down his neck, beginning just under his ear.

  
“ _Fuck._ ” Harry breathed.

  
Louis brushed his lips over the nook below Harry’s jaw prompting him to shiver.

  
Harry accelerated their pace backward, and Louis found his mouth again, struggling to keep up. Louis put a hand to Harry’s neck slipping it under his shirt to let his fingers trace Harry’s collarbone. Harry led them into a brightly fluorescent lit room with sinks and large labeled barrels. The space smelled like chemicals, though pleasant somewhat sweet ones. Harry turned his head noting an ajar door into an interior black room. He pushed Louis inside the room (which Louis realized quickly was more the size of a closet) and closed the door, leaving the two of them in total darkness.

  
Louis thought that this was probably the hottest thing he’d ever experienced, and they hadn't done anything explicitly sexual -- yet. Harry pushed him up against the back wall of the room, their tongues mingling fluidly. He gripped the waist of Louis’s hoodie, and dragged his palms over his chest as he removed it, taking his shirt along with it. Harry began to suck softly at Louis’ neck and trailed his wet kisses down Louis' chest.

  
Louis knew what was coming and he'd never been so fucking ready for anything in his entire life.


End file.
